The Eye of the Dragon
by Bleve
Summary: An ancient symbol that represents a threat, and the choice between good and evil. A woman who must defend her home against danger, and choose between a man possessed and a possessed man. A series of unrelated stories featuring Hawke, Anders, and Fenris.
1. Turning to the Enemy

**A/N**: This is the first in a collection of short stories that will feature the love triangle of Anders, Fenris, and Marian Hawke. This story is written from Anders' perspective.

**Disclaimer**: Bioware owns Fenris, Anders, and Hawke. If I owned them, I probably wouldn't share.

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Turning to the Enemy

I bent down, and brushed a gentle kiss across her lips. She stirred slightly, and I whispered, "I'll be back in a little bit, love. I need to take a stroll and clear my mind."

She fell quickly back asleep, and I tiptoed out of our room. It was late, and no one was in the living area. I quietly slipped out the front door, closing it gently behind me. Luckily, I did not have far to walk, as the cool night air nipped at my skin, causing me to pull my robes closer around me. Within a few moments, I stood in the shadows on an empty street in Hightown, starring at the entrance to my destination on the other side of the road. I was having second thoughts about my decision to come here, and rightfully so. "What kind of man considers asking his adversary for a favor?" I thought to myself. The answer—a desperate one—a man who has come to terms with his decision, and now wants nothing more than to see his plan through.

My plan, if you could call it that, was radical at best and insane at worst. But, I felt that the current situation was no better. Everyone—the nobility, the Chantry, the Viscount—was content to let the Templars terrorize mages. For years, the Templars had committed countless cowardly acts, and none of them did anything to stop it. I had watched helplessly as the their behavior had gone from bad to worse, and now, I had to do something. If I had to be the spark that would ignite change, than so be it.

I was surprised at how easily I came to my decision, but after years of stagnation, and with Vengeance propelling me forward, I knew it was the only option. For the briefest of moments, I felt some peace within myself, and then the guilt came crashing in. I knew that my actions were going to cause her a great deal of pain, but I saw no way around it, and still, I hated myself for it.

Our relationship was the only thing that had kept me from doing something this drastic several years ago. I had selfishly wanted to find some way to advance the plight of mages while keeping some semblance of a normal life with her. Unfortunately, things were deteriorating, and now I had to choose between them. It saddened me greatly, because our love was the single ray of light in my life, and now I had to turn away from it. Marian Hawke was an amazing woman, and the only person in all of Thedas that I did not want to disappoint. Her compassion and lack of prejudice drew me to her; she considered each person individually based on their own merit. Sadly, that also meant that eventually she would judge me—not as a mage, but based on my own actions. If my fate had to be decided by anyone, I wanted it to be her.

I walked across the street, approaching the dilapidated door. I stopped in front of it, and raised my fist to knock. Before my hand could hit the wood, the door swung open revealing the man I needed to speak to. He stood in front of me, tense, his eyes scanning me and the surroundings.

"What do you want, mage?"

"I need to speak with you, Fenris."

"Do it at a more appropriate time," he moved to close the door.

I put my hand out to block it. "Look, elf. I am here because I need to talk to you about something that can not wait—a subject that you will definitely want to discuss. So, you can let me in, or I can make my own entrance through your living room wall."

"You have five minutes," he said as he stepped back, giving me room to enter. "If you so much as twitch a finger, I will relish smashing it beyond recognition."

I brushed past him, and he closed the door. "I am listening, demon. Your five minutes is dwindling."

I sighed before beginning, "I need to ask a boon of you."

Fenris cackled devilishly before stating, "I let you in the door—that is all that you will get out of me. If that is all that you needed to discuss, I suggest you leave."

"It is about Marian," I offer. I saw his face flash with emotion when I said her name. I knew that Fenris disapproved greatly of me and my continued existence, but he flat out detested me and Marian's relationship, and it was often a point of contention between her and the elf. I suspected that his hatred of our love was equal parts concern for his friend and jealousy that she chose me. But, as I watched his face that night, I realized that I may have underestimated just how envious he felt.

"What about her, mage?"

"I need a promise from you—that you will protect and help her over the coming days. I feel a storm brewing, and I am not sure…" my voice cracked, "I am not sure I will be able to be there for her."

The elf sneered at him, "What are you up to, fool? What trouble are you stirring up?"

"That is none of your business," I bite back, "the only thing that I asked you to worry about is the well-being of my woman." It was childish of me to emphasize who Hawke bedded every night, but I could not resist rubbing it in his face while I still could.

He balled his fists in anger, as he gritted through his teeth, "Why should her condition concern me? As far as I know, and for reasons I will never fathom, she appears to be content with you. Unless you plan to do something that will harm her, in which case, I will enjoy ripping your demonic heart right out of your chest."

I shook my head in disdain, "Whatever, Fenris. I must have misjudged you. I knew you were a bitter, warped, twisted little coward; but I thought that you might have cared for the woman who helped free your sorry ass. Clearly, I was mistaken…"

He lunged at me then, and we collided backwards into a wall. He braced his forearm against my throat, as I struggled to pull his arm away.

"Do not dare to tell me how to feel, demon. I will crush your windpipe and rid Kirkwall of your filth," he fumed.

I grinned manically at him and choked out, "You won't do it—for the same reason I haven't fireballed your wretched lyrium-laced hide into oblivion. It would hurt her."

For a moment, it looked like he was still considering my demise, but he released me and walked away. "You have my word, mage. I will do what I can for her. However, on second thought, I do not even want to know what you may or may not be considering. That way, when the time comes, I can honestly tell her that I had no idea."

"Thank you, Fenris."

"Do not thank me. I am only agreeing to do it out of concern for Hawke," the elf grumbled.

He leered at me, as I laughed outwardly at his statement. "Just concern? Don't delude yourself, Fenris. I know you think that you are better than me, but you really aren't. You are just as two-faced as me, but you attempt to hide yours. I make no secret of the fact that I am conflicted. You, on the other hand, pretend that 'concern' is your motivation when it comes to Hawke. She may buy that garbage, but I know better."

"Then, why come to me?" Fenris growled, "If you think I have ulterior motives, why not go to Varric or Isabela? Why do you not ask one of them to look after her?"

I sighed and stated, "Your ulterior motives are the reason I have come to you. While it sickens me to my very core to admit this, I suspect that what you and I feel for Hawke is not so different. Her friends care about her, but I need someone who would do anything for her. For all of our many differences, Fenris, we share one thing in common, and I think you know what that is."

I began to leave by walking over to the door and opening it, having achieved my goal.

"Anders," he called out.

I stopped in the open doorway. He began, "I will never understand nor accept your convictions on magic. I do not know what you are about to do, but if it drove you here, it must be serious. I hope it gives you some peace to know that I will do everything in my power to protect Marian, even if it means my life."

"I know you will, because I would too." I pulled the door shut behind me. Now, I just wanted to go home and wrap my arms around the woman I loved, for one last night.


	2. The Price We Pay

**A/N** - A one-shot written from Fenris' point of view featuring angst, angst, and more angst.

Reviews are always welcomed! It's amazing how much they inspire one to write.

**Disclaimer** - I do not own Dragon Age. If I did, there would have been better "sex" scenes. Really? Cut-aways? Are those even considered sex scenes? Do you need an M rating for cut-aways? Players who romanced Fenris or Anders got robbed. There must be a lot of male programmers at Bioware.

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The Price We Pay

I sat in a fire lit room of the decrepit estate house that I occupied, letting the anger and bitterness seep into me like the chilly night air. I should be feeling relieved after the day's events, maybe even slightly optimistic—I felt neither. I had destroyed Denarius by my own hand, ironically using the very power that the cruel magister had bestowed upon me. How many times had I thought about exactly how I was going to kill the man, and how many nights did I dream of doing it? Without any hesitation, I crushed his windpipe and snapped his neck with my bare hands. It was a fitting death for the maniacal bastard. And yet, the one thing I had fought for and yearned for cost me very dearly. My sister, someone I barely knew and yet wanted to find so badly, alerted the magister to my location, all for his empty promise of an apprenticeship. As if her betrayal wasn't enough, she also revealed the origin of my blighted lyrium tattoos. Her deceitful and malicious acts pained me, but the realization that the brands were something I had fought for—it nearly crushed me. I felt lost, abused, and utterly abandoned. Even then, Marian was there, just as she always was. She was my sole supporter, someone I could always turn to for anything. She refused to allow me to wallow in self-pity and challenged my belief that I was alone.

Now, in my most needy and vulnerable moment, she was here again, in my home, advising me to live my life and enjoy my freedom. Her presence should have soothed me, and yet, I was agitated and angry. Why did her words not console me or offer me any peace? I knew why, even if I did not want to face it. I had the opportunity to be there for her in a needy and vulnerable moment, and I had run like a coward. I thought I had accounted for every bit of pain and suffering caused by magic in my life—of course, I was wrong. I knew that these cursed markings cost me my memories, my family, my freedom; but I didn't realize until it was too late that they also cost me my heart. I knew I cared for Hawke, and admired her greatly. She was tremendously generous and had a soft spot for the underdog. Most of the garbage that Kirkwall called "nobility" would not know what it meant to be noble if it kicked them in their self-centered, arrogant teeth. Hawke was different. She shared her wealth whenever she could, and used her position to help anyone who asked. Her looks and charm were unmatched by any other woman he had ever met.

Somewhere along the way, those feelings morphed into much more. I went to her one night, and we shared each other in ways so beautiful and precious that for a few glorious moments I forgot about everything—except her. Sadly, it all came crashing back, including some glimpses of my life before the markings, and I could not handle it. I was confused by these flashbacks, and terrified of them. I saw them as a sign of weakness, something I could not bear to be. I fled her chamber and from my feelings for her, and focused myself on discovering my past. I was blinded by my vengeance, focused solely on Denarius' death and the supposed resolution it would bring. By the time I stopped running, so to speak, and realized what I had lost, someone else had claimed it.

I could have accepted that another had her heart, if it had been anyone other than that mage scum. Anders was the epitome of what was wrong with mages—easily manipulated and quick to anger. He was an abomination, and worse, one with a supposed "calling." Nothing is more dangerous than a fool with a conviction. I could not understand what she saw in the twisted mess that was part man and part demon. But, I could easily comprehend what the mage saw in Marian, and I warned the bastard that if he hurt her, I would see to his demise personally. She was worthy of a man a million times better than him, and a thousand times better than me. Even though I detested her choice, I could never hate her. If anything, my love for her grew, even though I knew that she belonged to someone else. She deserved to be loved and cherished by someone, and I had no right to interfere or be jealous—but I did both nonetheless.

How could I not adore the woman who sat with me now, trying to convince me, after what I did to her, that my life was still worth living? Before, I had no past, no life, but I had her. Now, I had a past and a life, but I had lost her. Maybe she thought my life was worth living, but I did not. My life without her was worth nothing. I knew in that moment that I had to try to get her back. I was being incredibly selfish and foolish, but I saw no other choice. A life without Marian in my arms was not an option—it was a slow and miserable existence ending in a merciful death.

"Perhaps it is time to move forward. I just don't know where that leads. Do you?" I asked hopefully, praying that she would hear the implied meaning in my question and respond to it.

"Nobody knows the future, Fenris."

I lowered my voice in sadness, "I know my future is incomplete, and I know what it is lacking."

"You have not always been so aware of what you were losing," she stated sarcastically.

"Maybe not. But, I've realized what my anger and fear caused me to lose sight of, and I intend to try to reclaim it."

She whispered, "Please, Fenris, don't do this."

I crossed the distance between us quickly, and stood in front of her defiantly. "Don't do what? Don't remind you of what we felt for one another? Does he know, Marian? Does he know you chose me first?"

She narrowed her eyes, and growled, "What does that matter?"

"It matters in finding out if you are telling yourself the truth." I felt the sting as her hand collided with my face.

"How dare you!" she screamed. "You accuse me of being deceptive—you are a hypocrite! You could never face your feelings! You left me that night!"

"I did and it was the biggest mistake I have ever made, and ever will make. But, I won't allow you to make the same one. I won't let you run from what you feel."

"You have no right," she screeched. "I am not running, Fenris."

"Then tell me!" I yelled back. "Tell me you no longer care for me, Marian. Tell me that all your feelings toward me are platonic."

I dropped my voice to a whisper, and ran my finger along her cheek. "Tell me that you don't think of my hands when he touches you. Tell me that you don't think of the night we shared when you are with him."

Tears gushed from her eyes, and ran down her face. Her hands were trembling, and she sighed sadly, like a woman resigned to her fate. She stared into my eyes, and I returned her gaze.

"Fenris, I...I can't tell you any of those things. I dream about you and what could have been very often. But, none of that matters. Think what you will of Anders, but he is a good man, and he has never turned his back on me." She sneered with contempt as she stated, "Which is more than I can say of you."

She walked out of the room, and left me where I deserved to be, alone.


End file.
